


The Heartlines On Your Hand

by BleuSarcelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Heartlines Au, Klance witch au, M/M, Witch Keith (Voltron), Witch Lance (Voltron), kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuSarcelle/pseuds/BleuSarcelle
Summary: Small shots I wrote between 2018 and 2019 based on Kiilea and mine's klance witch au zine, Heartlines!! These events happen after the events of the zine.Ps. they have no chronological order!
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 98





	1. Make That Two Clues

**Author's Note:**

> Small shots I wrote between 2018 and 2019 based on Kiilea and mine's klance witch au zine, Heartlines!! These events happen after the events of the zine. If you're curious about said events, go to @kiilea instagram to know where you can read it!! You won't regret it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy them as much as I did writing them!
> 
> Ps. they have no chronological order!

Keith’s trying  _ really  _ hard not to fall asleep.

“Keith, stop nodding off, you’re supposed to be  _ upright _ .”

But it’s  _ really  _ hard not to with his boyfriend’s fingers running down his hair, massaging his scalp and settling his entire body at ease with each stroke they do.

Keith grumbles as an answer, a small frown on his lips when one of the hands leaves his hair to poke him on the cheek.

The warlock opens one of his eyes to stare back at his boyfriend, who looks unimpressed by his half-glare and even more so when he whines the moment Lance shifts on his spot to make a quick arrangement of the bed’s pillows for his back.

“You asked me for the braid, you know,” Lance reminds him slowly, lips twitching when Keith’s frown turns into a pout.

“It gets in my mouth,” Keith defends himself with a grunt that only turns into another whine when Lance kisses his cheek too quickly and doesn’t let him savour it. “Wha–  _ Lance _ .”

“ _ Ay Dios _ ,” Lance mumbles to himself in playful exasperation before he drops another kiss on Keith’s cheek, nuzzling his nose against it right after. “Don’t be a baby, baby.”

“Your insult doesn’t really work when you use it as a pet name too, you know,” Keith says with a grin before he yelps and groans at the sudden raspberry that is blown on the side of his neck.  _ “Lance!” _

He tries to push himself away from the attack but his boyfriend takes the advantage of their sitting arrangements by wrapping his legs around Keith’s middle, keeping him in place.

“Muahaha,” Lance laughs like a poorly-paid villain. “You’re trapped, now endure the torture.”

“Oh, yes, I’m clearly suffering,” Keith hums as he sinks himself back to Lance’s chest, braid forgotten. He closes his eyes to properly soak in his boyfriend’s warmth. “Oh no, how can I escape this never ending nightmare?”

Lance laughs, all soft and happy. “Dork,” he whispers fondly against his neck. 

Keith hums proudly at the jab, arching an eyebrow in silence when Lance finally lifts his face and nuzzles his nose against his temple instead.

“Give me five minutes, come on,” Lance says with a small snicker. “One quick braid and then a nap, okay?”

Keith groans unhappily before he sighs and nods, pushing himself off his boyfriend’s chest and sitting up properly with his legs crossed. Lance’s legs lose their hold around his middle and Keith strokes his boyfriend’s right calf in affection when he feels thin fingers running once again down his hair.

Silence sets between them, being only filled from time to time by Lance’s quiet soft curses whenever he misses a step or some hair slips through his fingers. Keith loses himself on his boyfriend’s mumbles, tapping his fingers against his knee as waits for Lance to be done.

Exhaling a quick breath through his nose, Keith looks around his boyfriend’s room, eyes searching for anything that may work as entertainment.

And then, a small blue paw pops up by the bed's end.

Keith blinks as a smile slowly spreads over his lips, its edges turning both fond and amused as Kosmo’s other paw appears the next second, tiny claws on sight as he tries to climb over the bed with the blanket’s help.

Keith offers a small cheer when the pup finally reaches the top, tail wagging happily at his own success as he stands proudly by the bed’s edge.

For a four-months-old pup, marking now a little over two months since Keith found him, Kosmo’s still oddly small. Shiro had mentioned he could’ve been the runt inside his pack or just genetics, depending on his species. Which are yet to be discovered.

They know he’s magic, though, because of his white short-length markings all over his body, contrasting loudly with his dark blue fur. 

Those markings were their first clues of Kosmo being a creature with magic, according to Coran, but they have also been their only clues so far.

There is not a lot to go on, since none of their libraries seem to have information about them so far, but Keith’s still oddly fond of them, because it’s something both Kosmo and him share.

Keith hums when Kosmo finally pads closer to him, small whines leaving him as soon as he’s close enough to rub his head against Keith’s hand and wrist, right over his own markings.

Getting the message, Keith calls for his magic.

_ “Aleuv asopiram,” _ Keith mumbles quietly, words leaving him in one single breath. He watches as Kosmo’s eyes light up the moment small golden specks start leaving Keith’s fingertips.

Keith chuckles and pushes Kosmo’s face away when he tries to lick the specks, holding him back long enough for his magic to finally shape itself into a butterfly.

Kosmo’s excitement just grows at the sight.

“Alright, alright,” Keith snorts, making a quick move with his wrist that makes both the butterfly and Kosmo take off.

Keith laughs as he watches Kosmo chasing the butterfly all over the bed, leaping and rolling every time he tries, and fails, to catch it in mid-air.

He’s so focused on Kosmo that he doesn’t acknowledge that Lance’s fingers have stopped working on his hair until warm lips press themselves on his cheek.

“What is it with him and butterflies, anyway?” Lance mumbles nose nuzzling against his skin for a second before dropping his chin on Keith’s shoulder.

Keith hums, eyes barely leaving the pup’s figure as he turns his head enough to press a kiss of his own on his boyfriend’s temple.

“I don’t know, maybe he likes shiny things,” Keith suggests with a shrugs, a small sigh leaving his lips as he’s finally  _ finally  _ allowed to lean back on his boyfriend’s chest.

Keith makes sure to keep a close eye on Kosmo as he continues playing, half-aware when Lance starts humming, taking advantage of his hands now resting on top of Keith’s stomach to tap it repeatedly with the melody’s rhythm.

This would be a good time to take his nap but he’s slightly on edge as he follows his pup’s moves.

It’s not often Keith is this cautious but he has found out in the last few weeks that Kosmo is rather clumsy and reckless when it comes to his own safety.

Keith rather be safe than sorry by keeping a close eye on Kosmo instead, especially whenever they hang out on Lance’s room that’s on the second floor of his cabin.

His shoulders relax, though, when he catches from the corner of his eye both Red and Blue climbing up the stairs, looking pleased and happy after their afternoon walk.

Their presence, as always, makes Kosmo forget all about the butterfly and now has him running towards them, quick happy yelps leaving him as he jumps off the bed to join them.

Blue’s quick to give him a pat on the head as greeting before she moves on, jumping on the bed to claim her spot on Lance’s star-shape pillow near the window next to bed.

As Lance leans back from him, just enough to greet Blue properly and pat her on the head, Keith tilts his head to the since when he sees Red had stayed still next to the stairs with Kosmo, by the room’s only open edge.

Red’s eyes are fixed on the wolf pup, tail barely swinging side to side where he sits on the floor with his back paws.

It’s odd to see such a look on the familiar, since Red has been nothing but kind towards Kosmo since day one. Sure, playful and ever-so slightly annoyed whenever the Kosmo nimbles on his ears during a nap, but still, Keith knows Red has accepted the pup into their small family by now.

But while Red’s eyes seem to be calculating, looking both tense and yet curious, Kosmo limits himself to yelp and wag his tail happily back at him, mimicking Red’s seating arrangement, if only a little bit clumsily.

Keith’s a second away from brushing the entire ordeal off, marking it down as one of Red’s moods, when his familiar finally moves from his frozen state by lifting one single paw, slow and tentative, towards Kosmo. 

And then proceeds to push Kosmo down the stairs.

“Re–  _ Kosmo! _ ” Keith shouts panicked as Kosmo disappears over the floor's edge. 

His body moves on his own as he throws himself off the bed, ignoring his boyfriend’s pained shouts when Keith accidentally elbows him  _ everywhere _ .

With his heart beating loud in his ears, Keith reaches the room’s edge to stare down at the bottom floor but he furrows his eyebrows in confusion when he doesn’t see one of his worst nightmares there.

Instead, he sees nothing. Nothing that hadn’t been there before and definitely no injured Kosmo.

“What the he–”

“Uh, Keith?”

Keith turns fast enough to give himself whiplash but it’s worth it when he finds his missing pup sitting in the middle of the bed. 

Kosmo howls at him as he wags his tail, ten times faster than before, while small specks of blue magic sink back into his fur, the glow Keith notices on his white marks fading away with each passing heartbeat.

Keith blinks. Once, twice, and then he turns to his boyfriend.

Lance shots both of his hands up in surrender, looking just as bewildered and confused as Keith feels. 

“I have no idea, he just– poofed out of nowhere!”

Keith’s nose scrunches in confusion. “He poofed?” 

“He poofed!!”

“You poofed?” Keith asks, eyes back on Kosmo who shoots him a happy howl as an answer. “So, like, what, teleportation? He can do that?”

“Apparently? And isn’t it called spatial movement?”

“It’s the same thing, Lance.”

“I mean, yeah, I know but it sounds so lame calling it teleportation!”

“Lance, it’s not– Wait, is he glowing? Lance, is he–”

“Oh, oh, oh! Keith, I think he’s gonna do it again–!”

“I know! Lance, grab him!”

“I’m trying! He keeps poofing– Ack! Kosmo!”

“Where did he– Kosmo! Kosmo, hey, no, I see you! Stay–  _ Kosmo, don’t! _ ”

By the time nightfall peaks through the windows, Lance's entire cabin is dusted with tiny specks of wolf pup magic and Red’s smug look stays with him for the following days. 


	2. Spooky Cookies

“Question.”

“Answer.”

Keith catches the small twitch of amusement in his boyfriend’s lips from the corner of his eye before Lance continues, “Why don’t you like, call your magic – you know, the demon one – and cook the cookies in your palm? It might be quicker and we won’t even need the oven.”

“Because the bottom gets too burnt while the top and middle is undone,” Keith answers with a shrug, picking the tray full of cookie dough from the kitchen counter and putting it inside the oven, right above the other two trays. “Been there, done that, and got me banned from the kitchen for a year.”

Lance hums in thought, tapping his chin. “Oh, what if you put a tray over them, one hand on each, like they are in a mini oven and then ‘boom’! Cooked from both sides!”

Keith blinks, letting out a small  _ ‘Oh’  _ before his lips slowly turn into a grin –

“ _ No _ .”

And then he drops it.

“Adam,” Keith huffs, a small pout on his lips as he turns towards the man, arching an eyebrow when he catches the man’s hunched figure on the other side of the counter.

“I have a thousand and two reasons why that would end up with a fire and with someone in the hospital.”

“Objection,” Lance cuts in, his hand raised. “I’m here so I could heal the unfortunate soul.”

Adam pauses, staring at the thin faint glowing veins on Lance’s forearms before he says, “Thousand and one.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Oh, come  _ on _ .”

Adam waves him off with a huff, his still eyes narrowed at the half-drawn ghost on the sugar cookie below him, the tip of his piping bag hovering over the desert as he thinks over his next move.

“I’m supposed to be supervising you two while Takashi goes to the store,” Adam says without lifting his gaze and cursing under his breath when he fails to make the ghost cookie’s right eye even with its left one. “You know, after  _ some witches  _ ate all the marshmallows for tonight's bonfire.”

“I still think I could’ve fit thirty in my mouth.” Lance shrugs innocently from his spot on the counter across Adam. “That, and Keith cheated.”

“What!? I did not!” Keith shouts, gasping loudly when his boyfriend narrows his eyes at him.

“You softened at least five marshmallows with your magic to make them fit better into your mouth!”

“What? Lance, all marshmallows  _ are  _ soft!”

“Oh, are they now!?

“Yes?!”

“Likely story, Kogane!”

“Alright, alright,” Adam cuts in right then and there, gaze flat but his eyes ever so amused now that he finally lifted his head from his cookie. “You can settle later in your room or something. In the meanwhile help me with these cookies before Takashi comes back.”

Keith arches an eyebrow. “What’s the hurry? We still have a few hours left to finish the Halloween treats before the neighbourhood kids come.”

Adam grunts, eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he finishes the edge of the ghost’s silhouette on the cookie. 

“He said I wouldn’t be able to make at least twenty of them because of my perfectionist ass.”

“How many have you done since Shiro left?” Lance asks, head tilted to the side in curiosity as he reaches for his own piping bag and cookie.

“Two.”

Keith snorts. “Dude, he’s been gone for at least an  _ hour _ …”

_ “Shut up and help me.” _

Both teens laugh, raising their hands in surrender when Adam glares at them but Keith manages to catch the small playful twitch on the corner of his lips.

Keith smiles to himself as he sits next to Lance, picking his own blank sugar cookie in the shape of a vampire and hums a small ‘thank you’ when Lance passes him a piping bag with black icing.

They work in silence for a few minutes and by the time Adam curses at his third attempt of making the ghost’s eyes even to each other, Keith’s at the final touches with his cookie.

“Uh, whatcha got there, babe?” Lance asks curiously from his side, pausing his work to lean over Keith’s space and get a better look of his creation.

Keith grins as he carefully picks up his cookie and keeps it flat on his palm, showing it off to all present in the kitchen.

And those would be Lance, Adam – and Slav, the small gnome that snuck into their home a few weeks ago and it’s still stealing all of Shiro’s green socks.

“It’s Mothman,” Keith answers proudly as he tilts the cookie from left to right and grins. “Shiro never makes Mothman theme deserts outside my birthday because  _ ‘Mothman is not part of Halloween aesthetic’  _ which it’s dumb, okay? Mothman deserves a spot.”

“Disagree, one of them stole my berries a few years back. They can rot in hell,” Adam says casually before slamming his fist against the counter when he messes up another eye, this time the left one, on his new ghost cookie. “I hate baking.”

He says that and yet he still puts the cookie to the side and picks up another one to work on. Keith can’t help but snort.

“Sure you do –”

It’s not even a second later when sprinkles on the right side of his face.

Keith shuts his eyes by instinct, slowly opening them when no other attack comes his way. He blinks in surprise and confusion as he brushes his cheek with the heel of his hand and it comes back with grease.

While arching an eyebrow, Keith lifts his gaze to meet Adam’s smirk.

“What was that? I thought I heard you say something, little dude,” he teases, his fingertips still dripping with melted butter. “Maybe speak louder?”

“Oh,” Keith whispers, eyes flashing pink for a second before small specks of his magic leave his fingertips and then flames take over. “Oh, it’s  _ on _ , old man.”

“Hey, no! You cannot use your magic to melt the fondant –  _ Keith! _ ” Adam shouts as he dodges the small but hot ball of fondant Keith had thrown. “Lance was right, you  _ are  _ a cheater!”

“I told you!” Lance shouts and Keith hadn't even noticed the moment he had stood up, leaving the counter to settle himself on the farest corner of the kitchen with a bunch of blank cookies. “Beat his ass, Adam!”

“Lance, I’m your  _ boyfriend! _ ”

“Boyfriend don’t cheat in marshmallow contests!”

“Oh my god –  _ Ack! _ Adam!”

By the time Shiro comes home, there’s a total of seven cookies, not even two percent of the batch they should have, the cookies in the oven got burnt and Lance turned out to be another perfectionist when it comes to cookie decoration.

They all got their right to get a s’more in the bonfire revoked that night but Keith has no regrets.

"Because you're a cheater," Lance grumbles sleepily against his neck and Keith answers him with a kiss on the top of his head.

No regrets.


	3. I Spy With My Little Eye

Keith admits it, he’s not the best when it comes to making plans of any sorts, but this entire thing is kind of pushing it. 

“Lance, your knee is about to break my spine.”

“Sorry, babe, but if I move even an inch, Pidge is definitely going to stab my eye with her bony elbow.”

“Fuck off, you wouldn’t scooch over when I told you!”

“Because I called dibs!”

Keith huffs through his nose slowly, containing his annoyance to the limit so he wouldn’t snap and give their hiding spot away. Well, if Lance and Pidge didn’t give it up first, with their dumb bickering.

“Guys, I really don’t think we should be doing this.” Hunks chimes in then, voice low and nervous and Keith can’t really see him, not with the limited light Pidge’s old shed offered them because of it’s cracks on the walls, but he could hear him shift somewhere on his right.

“Hunk, you hypocrite, you brought  _ snacks for this _ .”

Hunk gasps offended. “Because I thought we were going to the movies! Pidge said so!”

“Hey, no. I said ‘Hey, Hunk, wanna go see a short-length rom-com movie?’ And you said yes.”

“I didn’t know that meant spying on Adam and Shiro on their very private talk.”

“Yes, you did! I literally told you right after and you still said yes!”

“I’m not proud of my choices, okay?” Hunk cries, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’ when the rest of them shush him hastily. When the faint and muffled voices of both Adam and Shiro continue their conversation without a hitch, many feet away from their spot, Hunk continues. “I just want to see them make up, man. It’s so painfully obvious they still care for each other. Why don’t they give themselves a chance?”

“To be fair,” Lance pipes in, hissing a quick apology to Keith when his knee digs deeper into his spine. “Finding out that your ex-boyfriend had been alive this entire time you thought he was dead takes time to digest. If Keith did that to me, I would whoop his dumb ass.”

Keith makes an offended noise. “Hey, I would have my reasons.”

“Won’t stop the ass whooping.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, right back at you,  _ McClain. _ ”

_ “Shake on it, Kogane.” _

“You know, I can’t really see your dumb faces but I know you’re doing a dumb face right now because Keith’s glowing,” Pidge deadpans behind them, her tiny hand slapping the spot next to where Lance has his hand on him. “Stop it. This is not about you, you morons. You had your spotlight last year.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys, did Shiro just  _ growl _ ?”

“What?” They echo together, pushing and shoving against each other as they all try to scramble towards the only hole big enough to see through in the shed. Pidge claims it, but only because of stabbing Lance and him both with her bony elbows.

“Holy shit, Shiro looks a second away from transforming.”

“ _ What? _ ” Keith chokes, eyebrows furrowing themselves. He can’t remember the last time Shiro lost control of his emotions enough to transform him.

“Holy shit, is Adam gonna die?” Lance asks and Keith feels him wincing against his back. “He  _ just  _ came back to life.”

“He was never dead, Lance.”

“Well, he’s about to be, Shiro’s drawing back for the punch,” Pidge says, hissing when all three of them rush once again forward to look through the hole. “Hey! No pushing!”

“No elbows!” Lance hisses back at her.

“ _ Focus _ ,” Keith snaps at them both, resisting the urge to smack them both in the head. In their argument, Hunk won over the spot for the hole. “Hunk, report.”

“No punches,” he replies evenly, humming to himself as he observes what they don’t, as if it were a difficult math problem. “Oh, wait, I think they are getting into each other’s space but not in an aggressive way?”

“Fifty bucks they are kissing,” Lance quickly says. 

Pidge scoffs. “Please, I’m not a child,” she says and Keith arches an eyebrow in suspicion at the words, until his friend continues with, “Fifty bucks they are shaking hands like two awkward grampas.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Lance snorts. “They can’t be that bad. They are adults, man.”

“Lance, you are twenty-one.” Keith reminds him flatly, scowling when his boyfriend runs his hand through his hair messily. Keith elbows him on his thigh, hard.

“I wouldn’t be too sure, man. Matt used to tell me they were huge disasters even after they got together,” Pidge says and Keith tries to think back, to that period of time when everything seemed to just go their way. Feels a lifetime ago, instead of just a few years. “Keith, back me up. You saw them often, afterall.”

Keith could just ignore them both, but humoring them, even at expenses of his own brother, would distract him from overthinking shit he could never phantom to fix in the first place.

“Disasters, both of them,” he says, offering a non-comical grunt when both Lance and Pidge nudge him for more gossip material. “Uh, and gay?”

Pidge scoffs, amusement and exasperation mixed easily in her voice, while Lance just snorts and leans down to brush his nose on top of his hair.

“Oh my god, never change, babe.”

Keith huffs a laugh but still leans back to press himself closer to his boyfriend’s body, even as awkwardly as they stand.

“Hunk, either keep us updated or  _ move _ ,” Pidge complains after a small silence, getting impatient. “What is happening now?”

“Well, I’m not sure?” Hunk answers bemused, pressing himself closer to their only opening. “I think they stopped talking but they still look really close together, so I could be wrong. Maybe they are whispering.”

“Or kissing,” Lance says, hissing in pain when Pidge punches his arm.

Hunk continues talking, something from the outside making him perk up. “Oh. Oh, they are moving. It looks like they are joking with each other? Aw, they look so happy and relieved and  _ – _ and getting too close to us, oh shit, abandon the ship. I repeat,  _ abandon the ship – _ ”

“ _ What? _ ”

“ _ Oh, fuck. Abort, abort! _ ”

“ _ Every dumbass to themselves! _ ”

“Shit, Pidge, my spine!”

“Hunk, move!”

“Where to¡?”

“I don’t know, I’m panicking!”

“Fuck, Pidge,  _ my spine – _ ”

“Keith, we have bigger problems than your weak-ass spine.”

_ “Rude.” _

* * *

“I never thought I would say it but Matt was right,” Adam chuckles, leaning back on the wooden table full of pots behind him as he crosses his arms over his chest and laughs at the old shed in front of him. “Messing around with others always did help us find a middle ground between us.”

Shiro hums beside him, the proximity they had earlier gone now that their act was over, but he doesn’t shift away from Adam either. Middle ground, indeed.

“How much longer should we leave them in there?” Shiro asks instead, flesh arm on his hip as he nods towards the screaming shed.

Adam hums, tapping his chin in thought. “Right before Keith’s spine actually breaks? Those Holts’ elbows are no joke.”

“They are so  _ bony _ ,” Shiro agrees in a conspiratorial whisper, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning when Adam snorts. “Remember the time Matt elbowled you unconscious?”

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that!”

That’s alright, because despite everything, Shiro’s happy to remind him.

And grateful, for being able to remind him.


	4. Study Session

Keith furrows his eyebrows in concentration, keeping the steady grip he has on his magic as he recalls his professor’s instructions in the back of his head.

The curse his professor had set on their assignment is a simple one, expected to be so since Keith’s group is on its first semester of their majorand the introduction of the subject regarding curses.

Mundane curses, of course, _–_ like turning a fish invisible and only being able to tell it’s inside its filled bowl when the food from the surface disappears in tiny bites _–_ because it’s still too early for the class to see powerful curses linked to Demonic Cultivations or such.

Keith doesn’t mind. It’s a small break from his training with Krolia and he’s able to get a grasp of what kind of curses are out there besides those related to demons and what he can do _with them_ with his warlock magic before he can threet the option of using his demonic one.

It should be an easy task, turning the fish back to normal, but since he started an hour ago, he has found out that it might be a little bit trickier than expected.

Keith lets out an annoyed huff when the golden twirls of his magic that had been reaching for the fish seems to dissolve, for the seventh time, as soon as it touches what he suspects it's the fish’s tail.

“No progress, huh?”

Keith hums as an answer, waving a hand in the air without looking away from his bowl. He can feel Allura’s eyes on the back of his head before he can hear her footsteps as she gets closer.

“I thought I’ve got it that time but my magic keeps retreating, as if deciding on its own that the curse is not worth its time,” Keith scoffs, glaring at his bare hand and the small golden specks leaving his fingertips. “A curse is a curse. Why is it being so picky now when it had no problems whenever I tried to take demonic curses?”

Keith can’t remember, not even in the beginning, his warlock magic being this selective. Sure, he remembers he had a hard time extracting the curses he had put, by accident, on living creatures like plants or small animals whenever he trained with his demonic magic back when he had been fifteen.

But he eventually got it right and after that it just got easier whenever he had put demonic curses on anything by accident during training.

“Maybe that’s the thing.” Allura offers when he questions her about it. “Curses are highly linked with emotions, as the magic healing it should be. Perhaps your urgency of fixing your mistake was strong enough to match up with the emotions the curse had been created with, making the extraction easier.”

Keith thinks it over, glancing at her from the side. “So now, because I didn’t cast this curse, my warlock side just goes ‘not it’?”

Allura’s lips twitch in amusement. “Might be. Like I said, it’s a possibility.”

Keith clicks his tongue in annoyance before leaning back from the bowl, glaring at it as he scratches his chin in thought. “What if I use my demonic side? It should work, right? It worked with Romelle.”

“Yes?!” said fairy shouts below, on the first floor of Allura’s tree house.

“Nothing!” Allura replies to her, ignoring both Romelle’s whines and Lance’s complaints of Romelle not paying attention to _their_ study session. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Keith.”

Why? Because he almost died? 

Yeah, that sounds reasonable.

“What if I _sprinkle_ some of my demonic side on the water, letting it sink on the fish,” Keith says instead, “and that way my warlock magic will think it’s its responsibility to heal?”

Allura sends him a look, telling him she’s not convinced.

“Okay, how about I drop a drop of blood _–_ ”

Allura stares at him in bewilderment. “The fish is not _possessed_ , Keith.”

“I know, but listen! If I establish a blood connection _–”_

“I think it’s time for a break,” Allura cuts him off, shutting his complaints before they can leave his mouth. “Come on, off the floor.”

Keith grumbles but does as told, raising from the floor with his invisible fish’s bowl in his hands. He sets it on the coffee table next to him, leaving behind a few pieces of food as a silent apology for wanting to let it swim around his blood.

He follows Allura downstairs, the sounds of music he hadn't heard before growing louder with every step he takes. He shares an raised eyebrow with Allura, who looks as confused as he feels.

“I thought they were studying?” Keith says, words sounding more like a question even to his ears. Allura hums next to him and offers him half a shrug.

By the looks of the books spread all over the floor of Allura’s living room, Keith can tell that both Lance and Romelle had been studying, the proof of it being the familiar posts-its his boyfriend uses during his sessions.

But there’s no sign of either of them by the time Keith and Allura stand in the middle of the living room.

The music is still blasting from Allura’s stereo that sits on the corner of the room.

“Uh, where are they?” Keith asks, eyebrows furrowed as he puts his hands on his hips and looks around, vaguely taking note of the changing colors the sky is going through outside the window.

Allura shrugs once more, still confused but not overly concerned about the disappearance of one of her guests and her roommate as she decides to head to the kitchen.

Keith considers following her but decides against it. Instead, he moves towards the window in hopes to see any sign of Blue or Red but all he finds is Kosmo chasing traumatizing a squirrel as he chases it across Allura’s deck.

Keith doesn’t acknowledge his body dancing to the music’s beat until a pair of hands settle on his hips and pull him back to rest against a broad chest.

“Oh, no,” Keith says but there’s a wide smile on his lips as the music grows louder and Lance’s snickers hit his right ear as a warm puff of air. _“Lance –!”_

“See, Romelle? This fine specimen is called a Keithulous, commonly known as _‘Mullet’_ for the local people,” Lance says, tightening the hold he has around Keith’s waist as Keith tries to push him away through his laughs. “Like seen in our previous lessons and we both just witnessed, he can be easily found in the wilderness if you just put some music near where he might be. His curiosity always gets the best of him.”

“I’m _not_ one of your stupid magic creatures, you nerd!” Keith shouts, half-heartedly pushing Lance’s cheek away from his face. 

He still dances to the rhythm his boyfriend had set for them, though, following him effortlessly.

“Incredible, isn’t him?”

_“Lance!”_

“Incredible indeed,” Romelle says through her snickers, hand on her cheek as she watches them from the side. “What does it mean when he goes red, though? All over here?”

Oh, wow. Thanks, Romelle, for exposing him and his blush.

Such a good friendship.

“Well,” Lance starts, managing to dodge Keith’s hand and press his cheek against Keith’s in a swift move. “You tell me; we have been studying all the magic creatures seen in the wood all afternoon. What should we do if we encounter a Mullet?”

“Is it dance with him?” Romelle asks, playing along as she herself dances to the beat of the music, twirling around them.

Lance hums and Keith huffs a breathless laugh when his boyfriend’s boyfriend’s hand sneaks inside his shirt and strokes his skin idly with his thumb.

“That’s done but he’s still red, Romelle!”

“Let me go,” Keith groans, throwing his head back strategically so it can rest on his boyfriend's shoulder. He is ignored.

Well, kind of ignored. Lance rubs the tip of his nose against his temple in knowledge but does nothing to actually fulfill his half-plead.

“A kiss, perhaps?” Romelle gasps theatrically, hands flying to cup her own cheeks as her eyes twinkle with amusement.

Lance gasps loudly back at her and Keith forgives him instantly for doing it so near his ear when his boyfriend’s lips brush against his temple next as a silent apology.

“I will take care of it then!” Lance declares, finally losing his grip on Keith enough to make him turn around and face him properly. “But where should I start?”

It’s Keith’s turn to answer the question of their stupid fake study session review by smashing their mouth together, with more force than intended, but neither of them complain as Lance laughs against his mouth and Keith smiles against his lips.


	5. Call Declined

There are two things Lance knows for sure at this time and age: one) his boyfriend’s lips are  _ soft  _ and two) his boyfriend  _ definitely  _ did steal his watermelon flavoured chapstick.

“I did not,” Keith mumbles against his mouth, his lips barely parting away from Lance’s as he breathes in and pouts at the accusation. “You left it here last weekend, dork. You can have it back, y’know.”

Well, that won’t do for Lance. 

“Nah,” Lance says as he leans down to drop another kiss on his boyfriend, putting an extra effort to press hard enough so Keith can picture the smile on his lips without needing to see it for himself. “Tastes better on you anyway.”

“Hm, sure,” Keith chuckles once they pull apart, playing along with a fond roll of his eyes before meeting his eyes upside once again, not moving in the slightest from where his head rests on Lance’s lap. “What time is it, by the way?”

“A quarter to five o’clock,” Lance replies after throwing a glance over his shoulder to catch sight of the clock on the wall behind them. He hums before he looks back, fingers running through his boyfriend’s head. “When did you say you had to leave?”

“Five o’clock,” Keith answers with a huff, allowing himself to turn his face onto Lance’s stomach with a groan before he sighs and pulls himself away to sit on the couch properly. “I should get going.”

“Noo,” Lance whines, putting extra work on his pout as he unceremoniously falls on his boyfriend’s lap before Keith could stand up. “It’s not even night yet!! You can’t do a night-exploration on luminous minerals  _ with the sun out. _ ”

Keith snorts, rolling his eyes once to show his mild disapproval but he does nothing to push Lance off him. Instead, he pats the top of his head. “I know but I haven’t packed anything for tonight because  _ someone  _ kept distracting me.”

“I have no regrets,” Lance declares rather proudly, flashing his boyfriend a quick cheeky smile that turns slightly fond when Keith laughs. “Come on, the kisses are worth it.”

“Worth enough to allow me to go to my class’s night-exploration half prepared and possibly late, which will make my professor give me the stinky eye?”

Lance hums, grin knowing even as he says, “You tell me.”

No hesitation whatsoever. “Yes,” Keith replies with a breathless laugh, shaking his head fondly. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Believe me, I know,” Lance mumbles, offering a half-shugg when his boyfriends look down at him in surprise. “What? I am!”

“No, stop it, this is exactly how you tricked me three hours ago,” Keith says, pushing Lance’s face away from his own when he tries to kiss him again. “Lance, no! You’re going to make me late!”

“You gotta meet with the group at seven!!”

“I haven’t packed!!”

“Whose fault is that!?”

“Yours!”

“Fair point,” Lance says, tapping his chin in deep thought before he sighs. “Fine, alright. I shall allow you to leave…”

“Pff,  _ allow me? _ ”

Lance ignores that. “But!! Only if you defeat me!”

“Oh?” Keith hums, eyebrow arched as his grin turns into a smirk and his eyes get narrowed in challenge. “In what, exactly?”

Lance narrows his own eyes back at him, words at the tip of his tongue before he catches from the corner of his eye a blinking light.

He turns towards it, arching his neck slightly to get a better view of the source of it before he makes a small sound of acknowledgement when he finds what it is.

“Ah, babe, you’ve got a call.”

Lance blinks in surprise when he feels his boyfriend freeze at the words. He frowns, confused and oddly put off by the strange reaction, but before Lance can pull himself off Keith and ask about it, his boyfriend unfreezes long enough to twist his body and grab the phone. 

And just stares. He stares at the phone with clear hesitation that has Lance’s stomach clenching uncomfortably.

“Are you gonna answer that?” He tries to joke, offering a small smile but it falls when his boyfriend doesn’t really acknowledge him and instead bites down on his lower lip. “Keith?”

He doesn’t get an answer until the blinking from his phone ceases and Keith sighs, suddenly looking like he hasn’t slept in a week.

Lance knows that look. He has seen it several times over the past few weeks since Krolia and Adam came back but Lance also knows better than to ask or dig into the topic.

Not yet at least. Soon, but not yet.

Until then, Lance can only be there for his boyfriend and provide as many kisses, smiles, and laughs he can in between these moments so Keith can  _ escape temporarily  _ from life for a few minutes.

It may not work in the long run, but Lance doesn’t  _ want  _ it to either.

“Now you’re  _ definitely  _ gonna be half-ass prepared  _ and  _ late,” Lance says, shaking his head in faux disappointment, clicking his tongue a few times until Keith’s eyes meet his own.

“Uh, why?” he asks, looking genuinely confused. Lance can’t help but reach out and cup his cheeks, giving them a quick squeeze. “Ah,  _ Lance! _ ”

“Because I can’t let you go out in the world looking this broody!” Lance scoffs theatrically. “I will be accused of being a bad boyfriend!”

Keith furrows his eyebrows, his confusion turning into bewilderment. “By _ who? _ ”

“You know! Them!”

Keith squints at him in suspicion. “Them?”

“Them!”

“Lance,” Keith starts, eyes suddenly dawning with understanding and Lance  _ knows  _ his boyfriend  _ knows  _ what he’s doing. Lance wonders for a second if his boyfriend is going to pull back and just leave but then, “We can’t have  _ them  _ think that, huh?”

Lance sighs the breath he didn't know he had been holding and offers a smile.

“No, we can’t,” he replies solemnly, his chest squeezing tightly when Keith lets out a small laugh and leans close enough for their breath to mingle. “We’ve got to prove them wrong.”

“Hm,” Keith agrees easily, already brushing his lips against Lance’s own. “Okay.”

Half an hour later, the sun is starting to set and Lance waves Keith goodbye from his door with the biggest smile he can muster.

He pretends he doesn’t see the way his boyfriend sneaks a glance at his cellphone one last time before he pockets it away and waves back with a smile of his own.

It’s a win for Lance, at least until the next call arrives.


	6. Breathe In

Keith can’t breathe.

“Concentrate.”

Keith’s mind is spinning and he can’t breathe.  _ He doesn't want to breathe. _

“I  _ am _ ,” he snaps back even as his magic flickers, his marks grow hotter, and his eyes sting. “It’s not  _ me _ .”

It’s a clear lie and anyone with ears could hear it. It’s stupid, almost imbecilic, to throw an excuse as poor as that one to a magic user who has mastered the art of cursed magic for decades now. 

And yet, Krolia doesn’t call him out on it.

Instead, she levels him down with a heavy stare that gives no comfort but holds no reprimand neither. And isn’t that a comfort itself? The lack of pretense of something that’s not there despite what the blood they share makes them to be.

Keith tries to make himself believe it is. It’s what he wants, how he wants to keep whatever weird tolerated relationship they had shaped in the last few weeks since Keith accepted Krolia’s training.

Since Keith allowed his mother to be part of his life if only to learn from her all that there needs to be known of his magic, of the curse running through both of their blood, until she leaves again.

Keith knows she will, eventually.

“Keith.”

It’s a matter of time. Keith has learned that life is never as kind as he wishes.

“You need to  _ breathe _ .”

Keith’s not doing that. He’s  _ not _ – _ that won’t help, how could that help?  _ He can keep the pain at bay without needing to breathe in. He can keep his magic contained and he  _ does  _ keep it contained in the bubble of energy that snaps and rages contained within the small space of his hands. 

And the curse of the demon inside of it, looking like lighting but roaring like thunder, keeps on snapping and trashing with rage at being contained once more.

It’s the scariest way Keith has seen his magic – _ small but vivid, vile, and deathly enough _ –but he needs to control it. He needs to learn this part of him so it can never get a chance to hurt anyone he cares about.

It can hurt him. It can burn him from the inside and out but Keith won’t let it loose.

“Keith, you either breathe in or cease the training.”

Keith already knows he chooses neither of those options but the coldness he hears from Krolia’s voice sets an entire different fire inside his chest from the one that burns on his skin. And that’s all it takes for the lighting to strike, escape from Keith’s shaking grip, and create chaos like it was born to do.

Keith inhales sharply at the tug his magic does the split of second that his grip wavers ever so, eyes widening in horror as he watches a sharp uneven lighting leaving his fingertips, the clouds of the storm within his hands dissolving in the air now that the demon within it has escaped.

He sees it in slow motion as it sets its own course, ready to strike and make its kill, and it settles quickly on Krolia only a few feet from where he stands.

Keith’s scream gets stuck on his throat at the same heartbeat that it takes for Krolia to change her stance, raise her hands, and intercept the lighting of pure cursed magic.

Dark magenta turns into a deep flashing purple before it flickers, spams sickeningly in his mom’s hands once, before it settles down and sinks into the transparent crystal she holds in her right hand.

It feels like a wave drowns him into one of the sea’s deepest waters the moment he breaths in and his mom still stands. Unhurt. Alive.

He allows his body to collapse, ignoring the sharp pain on his knees the moment he falls in favour to breathe in and out through his heaving pants.

“Hey,” Krolia calls out, the strange edge he has noticed time and time again appearing once more as she tries to reach out to him. It’s soft, kind, and comforting enough to let him know it’s his imagination. “It takes time –”

He turns out whatever else she says, not wishing to hear whatever his traitorous heart would make itself believe just to stop the aching he has been nursing since the day he found out he was meant to have a mom and life took her from him.

So, Keith takes the shot before life can beat him to it, for life itself has never been kind to him. But he still chokes out a small whine the moment a warm hand settles on his back, between his shoulder blades, and  _ stays there _ .

And the thought that plagues him, that maybe Keith just never has been kind to himself, is incredibly painful for him to forgive it instantly.

“It takes time.”


	7. Hello Again

Keith barely catches it from the corner of his eye.

He turns his head to where he had seen the light, expecting nothing and yet something. He sees nothing but the silhouettes of the trees that are still able to bathe in the moon’s light unlike those who sit closer to the woods’ heart.

Keith stares into the darkness there, where the moonlight cannot sneak through thick branches and crowds of leaves. And waits.

Red sits patiently next to him by his feet and Keith doesn’t need to look down at him to know his familiar is swinging his tail lazily in the silence. It’s easy to know when Red doesn’t growl or hiss at whatever it’s hiding in the darkness.

Nothing outside the occasional firefly and a few glowing beetles fly past the shadows, flicking in and out of existence within seconds, their wings buzzing and faint sounds just adding to the living  anthem  the wood prides itself on broadcast every night.

Keith’s no fool. He knows what he saw and his heart refuses to leave until he can see it again properly. His marks are at ease and his chest expands as it should with every breath that he inhales. There’s no danger for him here.

But even then, his eyelids grow heavier as the seconds pass and his dry eyes start stinging ever so slightly despite the generous amount of eyedrops he had used earlier before he went to bed.

The residue of his nightmare clings to his shoulders like a horde of leeches, sucking the remaining energy he had managed to keep since he woke up an hour ago with his own screams stuck on his throat and his heart pounding frantically against his ribcage.

Nightmares are no strangers to Keith, not since his magic triggered for the first time. They have spread out periodically throughout his life, becoming more manageable the more Keith learnt to battle and overcome every fear inside him one by one.

_ Growth _ , Lance had called it, blue eyes swimming with pride and they had stayed that way, even when Keith had confessed that some of them still haunt him to this day.  _ Nothing wrong with that. _

They both had to agree that Keith switching to long walks through the woods instead of bottling all of his nightmares inside had been an upgrade as his coping mechanism. 

Keith blinks a few times over to bring himself back to the present, scrunching his nose in annoyance as he rubs one of his hands stubbornly on his face, brushing away his exhaustion.

It’s been a long week, in every single sense, and even when his body pleads him to rest, he refuses to move from his spot. 

Keith’s not even sure what he’s waiting for, or even if there’s anything to wait for. But Red hasn’t moved either, not even to express his impatience to go back to sleep.

That alone tells Keith that he’s on the right track, so he waits a little longer. The reward comes a few minutes later, while he’s fighting fiercely against his eyelids from closing. 

Red meows next to him, making Keith to blink owlishly in surprise, before he turns his head and his eyes finally  _ finally _ catch a pair of eyes staring right back at him.

Once, what feels more like an eternity ago instead of a year and a half, those green eyes had belonged to a fawn .

Small, fragile, cursed, and  _ dying _ .

The stag a few feet from Keith is none of that. The creature before him is strong, holding himself high and tall as his eyes never waver away from Keith’s gaze.

It’s an intense stare but not unnerving.

If anything, it’s welcoming.

Keith feels the corner of his mouth curving up, chest suddenly tight with an unexplainable fond affection.

Keith doesn’t say anything, not even as the stag slowly steps out of the wood’s shadows and walks towards him. He stays still, keeping his breathing low and deep as before, even when the stag stops barely an arm length short from Keith.

_ An Nychteriní Eláfi _ , Keith’s brain supplies effortlessly, the name of the creature before him echoing inside his head as the memory from that fateful day clouds him and his boyfriend’s voice wraps him up warmly.  _ Known as royalty among the rest of the magical night creatures. _

_ Damn _ , Pidge’s voice echoes next, the memory running its course,  _ for all we know you could have just saved a baby prince, Keith. _

Pidge couldn’t have been more right, for that prince had turned into a  _ king _ .

Long gone were the faint white dots Keith so vividly remembers on the back then fawn’s back, spread all over his dark fur like freckles that flickered like stars underneath the smallest of shades.

Now, an entire universe is spread over the side of the stag’s neck all the way down to his chest, glimmering like true stars now surrounded by deep darkness.

Keith takes it all in, carving inside his head every single detail of the creature he saved and had saved him in return without knowing.

His eyes explore every inch on the stag’s body, taking in the way the fur of his old friend glows ever so slightly at the gentlest breeze and the extraordinary shape his horn had taken since Keith last saw it.

_ Royalty indeed _ , Keith thinks in awe.

He doesn’t know for how long he stood there, staring and admiring, until he felt a small head bump on his shin.

Keith blinks down at Red, tilting his head when Red does, before he breathes out a laugh.

“Alright,” he whispers, voice oddly choked up. “Let’s go back.”

He looks up, preparing himself for the incoming goodbye he must go through, only to gasp when his eyes meet nothing but darkness once again.

Keith furrows his eyebrows, chest tightening in disappointment, before he lets out a small sigh.

He comforts himself by thinking that the lack of a heartfelt departure had been replaced by the quiet promise of a heartfelt reunion in the future.

And it works, he realizes, when he reaches Lance’s cabin _ –still warm and quiet as it was when he left– _ and there’s no more fear lingering on his shoulders from the nightmares.


	8. Ice Ice

Keith had always known Lance McClain would be the death of him. With that mischievous grin, the small dimple on his cheeks and that spark in his eyes.

Doomed. Keith has been doomed since day one.

“I dare you.”

But he refuses to go down without a fight.

“That’s not gonna work,” Keith snorts, sinking deeper into the scarf around his neck, hiding half of his face but making sure his glare is still visible for his boyfriend to catch.

Lance doesn’t waver at its sight. If anything, he grows bolder.

“I double dare you!”

Keith narrows his eyes, even as his feet shift on the snow. “Stop.”

“I double triple dare you!” Hunk butts in, sliding next to Lance with a bright big smile. “Come on, man! It’s fun, I promise.”

“No way, in  _ hell–” _

_ “I double triple square root of five dare you!” _

_ “Pidge!” _ Keith scoffs exasperated. “Do I really need to explain to you guys why me, a half-demon warlock whose magic comes out, essentially, as  _ heat _ , can’t skate in a big ass frozen lake?”

He’s met with silence and several arched eyebrows.

“I, personally, would love the explanation,” Adam chips in with his hand raised after a small pause, mumbling a small confused _ ‘what? I would’ _ when Matt snorts next to him.

Keith lets out a long dragged groan. “I don’t want to risk melting the ice below our feet, alright? I rather stay on the shore.”

Pidge is the one to snort from where she’s holding on tight to Hunk’s forearm as her feet slowly continue to spread apart from each other.

“That’s such a lame excuse, though,” she says, scowling as she notices her feet. “Your magic _ –gah, Hunk! A lil help, thanks–!  _ Your magic comes out of your hands and even then, you can’t even melt an _ ice-cube _ during summer, Keith, come on.  _ Science _ .”

Keith scrunches his nose. “You don’t know that, I mean, maybe this time can be different. I have lost control before, you know that. I have burnt  _ trees _ , Pidge.”

“Yeah, when you were emotionally constipated, I know.” She waves him off with her flat look, her hands preoccupied to hold herself up on ice with Hunk’s help. “That was last year, though.  _ Are  _ you emotionally constipated at this time and age?”

“Sometimes; he still pretends to hate my pet-names,” Lance answers for him, shrugging with a grin when Keith sends him a glare. “What? You do!”

“I do  _ not  _ pretend to hate it when you call me  _ ‘sweetums’ _ , Lance.”

“But you do when I call you  _ ‘sweetheart _ ”?” Lance asks and his grin only grows wider as Keith takes more than two heartbeats to reply. “Hah, called it.”

“Cute,” Adam cackles, raising his hand in mock surrender when Keith’s glare settles on him. “What? It is _ –heh, honey bun. _ ”

“Adam.” Keith deadpans at the same time Matt giggles.

“No, no.  _ Tater-tot _ ,” Matt wheezes as he leans heavily on Adam’s side until the older man skates back without warning. “Oh, shit _! Adam, you assh–! _ ”

“I raise your  _ ‘tater-tot’  _ and drop a  _ ‘snookums’ _ ,” Pidge shouts from the other side of the iced lake with Hunk by her side.

“Oh, oh, I got one,” Hunk says with a giddy smile. “ _ Sweet pea! _ ”

_ “Pumpkin!” _

_ “Apple pie! _

_ “Pudding!” _

_ “Sugar tits!” _

“You ruined it, Matt.”

“If I get on the ice, will you guys stop with the names?” Keith asks, trying hard to keep his gaze flat and unamused so they wouldn’t look towards where he feels his own lips curving up.

While the others ignore him, too busy throwing more pet-names between them, it’s Lance who skates closer to him with a smile. 

“Get in here with me and find out,” he says, holding up his hand towards Keith, gaze soft and encouraging. “I’ll be by your side, sweetheart.”

Well, Keith can think of worse ways to go than while holding hands with Lance McClain.


	9. Safety

It barely lasts a second but that’s all it takes for Lance’s memory to jog back in time when he hears knocking coming from his door so late at night.

Arching an eyebrow, Lance stands from the couch, careful not to hustle Blue, who naps on the cushion on his right, and makes his way over to the door.

He had a vague idea on who might be behind it, after all, it wouldn’t be the first time Matt would crash on his couch whenever his rounds on the woods run a little too long, but Lance didn’t expect to find his boyfriend instead. Or at least, he had hoped it wasn’t Keith.

And  _ boy _ , if the sight in front of Lance doesn’t feel like a deja-vu...

“Keith?” Lance mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he takes in his boyfriend’s appearance from head to toes.

Keith grunts lazily with the back of his throat as greeting and he looks the spitting image of himself from a year ago except his hair is longer and tucked in a messy braid, his training gear is upgraded, and Red is all grown up and healthy by the warlock’s feet instead of his arms.

The bruises, burns, and scratches on both Keith’s skin and gear, though. Those seem to be the same they had been a year ago.

Lance’s stomach drops, heart drumming in panic at the thought of a drekavac roaming through the woods once again but he forces himself to calm down and tackle one issue at the time.

But he doesn’t know where to start. Lance has  _ questions– _

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Keith sighs instead, cutting Lance’s internal struggle short and leaving him wonder if he had been making a face for Keith to step in. “Training just got, uh, a little out of hand.”

“A little,” Lance echoes, swallowing thickly as his eyes look over his boyfriend’s body before he sighs and reaches out for Keith’s hands, finally pulling him inside. He takes note of how hot Keith’s hands feel even with his gloves on. “You look like a drekavac ran you over.”

Keith’s lips twitch but they look like a grimace. “Eh, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“There shouldn’t be a  _ second  _ time.” Lance clicks his tongue, sparing a quick glare at his boyfriend as they finally make it to the couch and Keith all but flops on it. 

From the corner of his eye, Lance’s not surprised to see that Red has joined Blue on her cushion on the other end of the couch and are now curled up together. They look cute and he would take a photo, if he didn’t have some more pressing matters at the moment.

Keith sighs, closing his eyes as he throws his head back, letting it rest on the couch’s armrest. “Technically, it would be my fourth time, I think? Maybe fifth?”

“Last year’s shitshow doesn’t count,” Lance grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown as he hovers over his boyfriend. “And  _ training  _ with Krolia also shouldn’t count as a drekavac attack so  _ why… _ ” 

Lance trails off, looking away to glare at the floor when Keith blinks his eyes open to stare at him in surprise.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Lance,” Keith says strongly, grunting as he pushes himself with his arms until he’s sitting on the couch, trying to catch Lance’s gaze. “She isn’t– _ she told me–! _ Hn, just trust me when I say this is on me. It was  _ my  _ fault, okay?”

No, it’s  _ not  _ okay. It’s not okay because this is not the first time they have had this conversation and with each week that passes, the fear and hesitation Keith thinks he’s hiding well in his eyes only grows.

And Lance doesn’t  _ understand  _ why. He doesn’t  _ know  _ and Keith doesn’t  _ tell _ .

But he keeps all of this to himself for now and resigns himself to sigh tiredly, stepping back and mumbling a ‘don’t move’ before he heads towards the kitchen, grabbing some of the herbs on the table next to the stairs on the way.

Gathering the rest of the supplies is fairly fast: bowl of water, hand towels, gauzes, bandages, creams, and some band-aids with some cartoon characters Lance already knows he will put on Keith’s face as a silly punishment for getting hurt  _ again _ .

Yet, Lance comes to find out that it’s  _ hard  _ to find humor in all of this when he finally joins his boyfriend on the couch and he sees that Keith hadn’t wasted time in speeding the process by taking off most of his gear, leaving him in just the undersuit he has underneath it all.

“I really wish you didn’t know the drill for this, you know,” Lance can’t help but voice out loud, not even trying to hide his frown as he dumps the supplies between them on the couch.

He regrets his words, though, when Keith’s eyes grow cloudy and he looks away in shame, mumbling an apology under his breath. Lance wants to kick himself because while he may feel upset, angry, and confused by all of this, it’s probably nothing compared to how Keith must be feeling and…

God, it just hurts so much to see Keith in  _ pain _ .

Lance wants him to  _ stop hurting _ .

With his chest filled with determination and a fire that urges him to protect, protect,  _ protect _ , Lance dives in to do the next best thing he can think of to stop the hurting.

“Hand, please?” he requests softly, offering a smile when Keith silently drops his bare hand on his own. Lance starts cleaning all the grim, mud, and dirt on it immediately.

By the time he cleans both hands, the air around them feels lighter than before and Lance can see the way Keith’s shoulders have lost their tension. That’s good, really good.

Feeling his own shoulders relax, Lance bites down his smile as he unwraps the bandages around his right hand first and jokes, “You know, now I’m just wondering if I’m boyfriend or your personal  _ ambulance _ .”

He yelps when his hand is suddenly grabbed and he’s being tugged  _ forward _ . “ _ Keith–” _

“Of course you’re my  _ boyfriend _ ,” Keith says, looking personally offended by Lance’s words, and Lance opens his mouth to explain but Keith just keeps  _ talking _ . “Is that _ –?  _ I don’t come to you to heal me, Lance! I don’t–! Shit, I swear I’m not taking advantage of you, I would never! I just, I just come to you because you’re  _ safe _ and I feel safe  _ with you _ . Fuck, I’m so  _ sorry  _ if I made you think _ –” _

“Keith, babe,” Lance cuts in quickly, letting his smile loose and his fondness for this man spread over his chest as he cups his jaw and pushes it up, efficentialy making him shut his mouth. “Babe, it was a joke. Ambulance, ya know? Ambu- _ lance _ .”

Keith blinks twice before he shudders a small ‘oh’ and his face grows red underneath all the mud. With a small snort, Lance picks up the hand towel on the bowl of water and hands it to Keith.

“You’re such a dork,” he says, letting the affection and fondness in his voice do the work and let his boyfriend know that everything’s  _ fine _ . “Clean your face while I do your hands, ‘kay?”

Keith nods mutely, quickly doing as told, and Lance just catches a small flash of a blush on Keith’s first swipe on his cheek before he goes back to his original task.

They work in silence and Lance’s concentration doesn’t waver in the slightest when Keith finishes and throws the dirty towel to the side, settling down to just stare as the blue specks of Lance’s magic sink on his skin like raindrops.

And they could spend the rest of the evening like this, like they have done so before. Just the two of them in comfortable silence while holding on to each other.

But Lance’s brain doesn't stop nagging. His worry doesn’t just  _ disappear _ .

This relationship thing is as new for Lance as it is for Keith, he knows that. They have been figuring out every step together and have faced the struggles they bring together as well.

Lance’s worried but he also doesn’t want to push and possibly drive Keith further  _ away _ . Lance doesn’t want to mess up but he can’t also not do  _ something _ .

He tries to compromise.

“You, um, you said it was your fault,” he starts softly, wetting his lips once as he narrows his eyes at the hand he holds between his own, the blue glow of his veins reflecting on Keith’s pale skin. “Why did you say that? Earlier, I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Keith replies just as quietly and shifts uneasy on his seat. Lance doesn’t look up, giving him the space he needs but doesn’t request. “You’ve gotta know that it’s not as bad as it is, Lance. I used to train alone in these woods before I meet you, way before  _ Krolia _ , and I would end up just the same.”

It’s a simple explanation and it doesn’t tell  _ much _ .

Or at least it wouldn’t to anyone else.

To Lance, it tells him everything he had been aching to know these past few weeks.

“Oh,” he breathes out in realization, his hands losing their glow as his magic retreats and his veins hide once again under his skin. He unconsciously starts stroking the top of Keith’s hand as he carefully says, “It’s been a while since I saw you scared of your own magic.”

Lance knows their bond is strong but, with the way Keith’s eyes widen and then he breathes out in something close to relief, he can’t help but think that their bond might be stronger than he originally thought.

“It’s just so…” Keith tries to explain, nose scrunched in frustration as he struggles with his words. “Intense? My magic is just a  _ mess _ , every second of the day. It has been so for the past few weeks and I’m  _ angry  _ because I actually thought I understood it and I could finally control it but then _ – then Krolia– my mom…” _

She arrived and all the emotions she brought with her were dumped on them all but mostly on Keith and it’s back to square one.

Or, at least, that’s what Keith’s shaky breathing tells Lance. That’s what Keith’s glossy eyes tell him before he hides them by burying his face on Lance’s neck.

Lance doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, pulling him even closer and arranging them both on the couch so they could be more comfortable.

He’s well aware that Keith still has some bruises on his face, some cuts on his sides, and scratches here and there, but Lance lets them be for the time being.

Because Keith’s feeling too much, too fast, and everything is scary, confusing, and  _ intense _ .

_ ‘You’re safe,’  _ were Keith's words. For him, being near Lance means  _ safety _ .

Lance doesn’t know how to tell him that if he believes  _ that _ , then he’s  _ not  _ back to square one, not really. He doesn’t know how to reassure Keith that he hasn’t failed but just growing stronger. He doesn’t know how to remind him of all the accomplishments he has done with his magic and how it has helped so many people.

Lance doesn’t know how to say any of that.

So, instead, he hugs Keith closer and keeps him safe from his own demons until the day he realizes he can fight back.

He has done it once, already. Lance knows he can do it again.


	10. Your Kiss On My Lips

It takes less than two seconds for Keith to know his friends are up to something as soon as he steps into the Holt’s Greenhouse behind their shop and all the mumbling that echoed around the room ceases at once.

They ain’t slick for  _ shit _ . 

Hunk limits himself to wave at him and chew on his snack of the day, clearly avoiding Keith’s gaze for  _ some reason _ even though Keith can see the signs of him trying to keep himself from spilling any of their trio’s plan  _ – _ because Keith  _ knows  _ they are planning something,  _ damn it _ .

Pidge just nods at him with a not-at-all innocent smile as he takes her gardening gloves off her hands, setting them to the side as she leans back on the wooden table behind her.

While Lance, “Hey, babe,” greets him as always: happy grin, right cheek dimple on sight, and bright eyes. Keith doesn’t miss the way Lance eyes hide the smallest specks of mischief.

He knows that look too well. Last time he saw it, Keith got roped into summoning a leprechaun because  _ “Aren’t you curious if they actually lead to gold!?” _ and ended up with a summoned gnome who stole his socks for two months.

Keith now takes precautions when it comes to his friends, boyfriend, and shenanigans. That being said, he is unapologetic when he slides to the side the moment Lance walks to meet him halfway, his blue eyes set on a target.

Keith takes cover behind the small section for the lukewarm roses, the small quiet sizzling the magic reminding him of the sizzling of a barbecue.

“Hey, what gives?” Lance whines when he reaches the spot Keith had left behind without remorse, lips turning into a pout as he turns to meet his boyfriends, hand on his hips as the roses keep sizzling between them. “Babe!”

“Na-huh, you’re planning something,” Keith accusases, ignoring Lance’s dramatic gasp and the way he slaps a hand over his chest. Drama king, that’s his boyfriend. “Keep me out of your shenanigans.”

“You love our shenanigans!” Lance says, pointing at him with a finger as he walks around the table between them and glancing a few times at something above them before focusing back on Keith. 

Keith doesn’t dare to follow his boyfriend’s glances, he can’t risk Lance sneaking up on him. For every step Lance takes to the right, Keith takes one to the left.

“When have I  _ ever  _ said that?” Keith deadpans with a flat look. Lance shrugs his shoulder before he launches, cursing when Keith efficiently dives for the next flower-habitat.

Lance huffs, his bangs flying up for a second before they fall back down on his face. He sends Keith an annoyed look.

“Babe, come  _ on _ ,” Lance whines, stomping his foot before he sends a look at something  _ – someone? –  _ behind Keith. Again, Keith refuses to look for himself, he knows his boyfriend’s tricks. “Can I just, I don’t know, want to be near my boyfriend? Hug him? Kiss his nose? Lick his ear?”

“Ew, Lance,” Keith complains but he can’t, for all of his strength, keep himself from snorting. Lance flashing him a grin and the smallest hint of a smile grows on Keith’s lips. “Except for the licking the ear part; yes you can do all that  _ –” _

“Awesome, then –”

“– Once I know you’re not gonna drag me into anything,” Keith finishes firmly, sending a warning look at his boyfriend when Lance ‘subtly’ tries to slide to the side closer to Keith in short slow steps.

What follows next is a dance apart where Keith leaps, jumps, and dodges every single attempt of Lance trying to catch him as they run through the green house and between all the tables in the middle.

Keith loses track of the time and they should probably just drop the entire thing soon and start on rearranging the greenhouse like Mrs. Holt asked them to a few days back  _ – _

“Oh my god, _ stay still _ ,” Pidge snaps across the greenhouse out of nowhere and Keith stops on his tracks to blink and turn to arch an eyebrow at her, slightly offended.

“Why  _ – _ ” he starts but his question is cut short when he notices Pidge hands raised towards where Keith stands with half her fingers glow a deep green color, her magic leaving her body in thin but long vine-looking lines.

“What are you doing?” Keith asks slowly, forgetting for a moment his initial mission of missing Lance’s weird approaches. He narrows his eyes in suspicion when Pidge snorts and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound. “Pidge, I swear, if you make daisies sprout out of my hair, again, I  _ will  _ cut off your souvenirs from my training trips.”

Pidge limits herself to roll her eyes and let out an annoyed, “Lance, get  _ on  _ with it!”

Keith takes a double take, looking bewildered by the words before he remembers his boyfriend's entire existence but by then, it’s too late, and Keith's only warning are warm fingers wrapped around his own before he’s being tipped.

Keith curses loudly, the only hand left he has immediately reaching out for support and it finds its place tugging hard on the hem of Lance’s shirt, fingers twisting the fabric a bit.

“What the fu  _ – _ ” he starts but is cut off when he looks up and catches a pair of blue eyes, glowing with the smallest specks of magic inside them.

“Gotcha,” Lance whispers, being so near Keith’s face that he can feel every warm puff of air that leaves his boyfriend’s mouth as he laughs and they both ignore the way Pidge shouts  _ ‘finally’  _ behind them. “You’re slippery, babe.”

“And you’re an asshole, don’t do  _ that _ ,” Keith complains, glaring up at his boyfriend without any real heat. He slowly melts in their odd embrace and Lance tightens his grip around his hand and waist, keeping him from slipping and crashing on the floor. “Alright, you’ve got me. Wanna tell me what’s all this about?”

Lance hums, sneaking once more glance at the ceiling before he beams down back at Keith and whispers, “Look up,  _ amor _ .”

Keith does and it takes him a moment to find what exactly he is looking for in the labyrinth that’s the greenhouse ceiling with all the faucets, tubes, and sprinklers covering it all.

But once he finds it, it’s hard to look away. Especially when he recognizes the remains of Pidge’s magic still hugging the small leaves on the mistletoe that hangs right above them.

Warmth spreads all over Keith’s chest and he knows it’s not long before the heat reaches his cheeks.

“Really? All of this just for a mistletoe kiss?” Keith asks with an arched eyebrow but Lance merely smiles widely down at him. By now, Keith's cheeks are on fire and he knows Lance knows by the way he cooes.

“To be fair, you were the one who started it,” Lance laughs, leaning down to brush his nose against Keith’s briefly before he asks, “Can I kiss you now, please?”

Keith chuckles, unable to keep the love and affection he holds for this man any longer as he lets go of his grip on Lance’s shirt and instead cups his boyfriend’s jaw tenderly, silently pulling him down and letting his kiss be the answer.

It is only when they pull apart that Keith is able to notice all the several mistletoes hanging all over the ceiling and he easily recognizes the sports as those where he had been standing during his chase with Lance.

His idea is only half-formed even as he nods to his boyfriend and asks, “Hey, do you wanna  _ –” _

_ “Babe, I’m going to stop you right there,”  _ Lance cuts him off, stealing a quick kiss from his lips before he pulls back and grins, _ “because the answer is yes. Next stop; sizzling roses kiss.” _

Keith laughs throughout their short walk to the roses and keeps on smiling through every single kiss.


	11. Chasing

Keith hits the ground with a soft groan, smile frozen on his lips and only huffing a breath when he feels his boyfriend’s weight fall on top of him a heartbeat later.

It doesn’t take him long to hum idly, though, enjoying the comforting heavy weight of Lance’s body against his own and the shade he provides by blocking the sun above them with his head.

“I’ve gotcha,” Lance whispers quietly when Keith’s eyes finally adjust to the sudden change of lighting, leaning towards the touch of fingers tracing down his jaw. 

Keith shudders a small breath as he tightens his hold around Lance’s hips.

“Did you, now?,” he asks just as quietly, pushing himself up enough to press his smile against Lance’s lips and drop a kiss there. 

Lance hums happily against the kiss, pushing himself closer to Keith’s body while his hands sneak their way up from Keith’s chest until they rest on both of his cheeks, cupping them tenderly.

Keith melts at the touch, sighing into the kiss as they move, suppressing a chuckle as he steals a gasp from his boyfriend’s mouth out of nowhere.

If Keith had to choice any place to make out with his boyfriend, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen the dampt ground of the field behind Lance’s home near the lake.

But Keith’s nothing but a man in love. Enterfly and undoubtedly smitten and gone for the man he holds in his arms.

That’s why it doesn’t take long for his skin to grow hot, knowing well it's not the sun’s fault but Lance’s. It’s Lance’s fault because he’s the one melting Keith from the inside as he kisses him deeply and yet holds him steady as if Keith was some kind of treasure.

“Cough –  _ fucking  _ – cough.”

Keith snaps his eyes open at the sudden snap, pulling away from Lance with a quick pop from their mouths..

Lance, from his part, limits to whine and chase after Keith’s lips in a weak attempt to lock them with his own once more. Keith gives him a consolation peck on his mouth.

“ _ Guys, come on. _ ”

Keith rolls his eyes, patting his boyfriend’s cheek once, taking in the faint but clear sight of his magic vibrating under his gloves.

As he tilts his head back, he catches sight of the mark on his neck glowing bright on the reflection Pidge’s glasses offer when he locks eyes with her.

“Yes?”

“You’re a disgrace to Team Kidge, Kogane,” Pidge deadpans, shaking her head at him in mock disappointment.

Keith frowns. “What? I caught the ball!”

Pidge arches an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Where’s the ball?”

“Right the –”

Keith blinks, confusion clear in his face as he stares at the empty spot on his right before he snaps his head to his left, blinking harder when it also comes up empty.

“Right here, buddy,” Hunk helps him out, stepping into his view behind Lance, shaking the missing football ball with one hand.

Keith furrows his eyebrows, brain slowly processing the sudden turn of events, before he snaps his head towards his boyfriend, who doesn’t move from his spot on Keith’s chest but whistles and looks away from him immediately.

“You’re such a  _ cheater _ ,” Keith accuses him, rolling his eyes when Lance gasps overly dramatic. “We said no magic allowed!”

“Are you calling my kissing magic, Kogane?” Lance asks, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “I didn’t know you were so smooth.”

“Wha – _ shut up! _ ” Keith shouts, loud enough to tune out Hunk’s squealing and Pidge’s snickers. “I didn’t mean – whatever! You still cheated!”

“You were the one who kissed me!” Lance finally defends himself, pushing himself back to get off Keith and ending up sitting on the back of his legs. “I just tackled you! Football is all about tackles!”

Keith opens his mouth, finger raised to counter attack, but no arguments come to mind.

Because, well –  _ yeah, Keith did initiate the kiss. _

“Keith, you’re a whipped moron,” Pidge declares, sending him a flat glare while both Lance and Hunk cheer in victory and high five.

Keith groans, hiding his flushed face behind his hands.

“If it is any comfort,” Hunk swoops in, raising a finger before pointing at Lance. “Lance forgot about the game as soon as Keith kissed him because I had to leave my spot to grab the ball  _ he was supposed to grab _ .”

“My boyfriend’s a good kisser, sue me.”

“Hah! You like my kisses!” Keith cheers in victory, pointing at his boyfriend who arches an eyebrow at him.

“I never said I didn’t, you weirdo!” Lance laughs, pushing his face away with a grin. “I said I liked them, not that they were  _ magic  _ like a certain warlock said!”

Keith opens his mouth, finger raised to counter attack, but no words leave his mouth.

_ “Damn it.” _

Pidge snorts behind him. “Anyway, so, I’m dumping Keith. Hunk, you’re now with me and we’re Team Punk.”

“Pidge, I can’t just leave –”

“I’ll share my invention notebook with you.”

_ “Team Punk it is!” _

Lance splutters, looking between the pair in disbelief. “Woah, woah, you can’t just –  _ Hunk! Betrayal! _ ”

“I’m sorry, buddy! I just really really  _ really  _ want to see what’s inside that notebook without Pidge using her magic to make a plant slap me!”

“I can not believe you!”

Keith sighs, shifting on his spot until he’s comfortably sitting between Lance’s legs on the ground and leaning against his chest, following idly the argument from side to side with a small smile.

He smiles when his boyfriend immediately wraps his arms around his stomach, holding him close as he keeps on bickering with their friends, using his only free arm to wave it in the air to express himself.

It doesn’t take long for Keith’s chest to be filled with warmth once more and, just like before, he knows it’s not the sun’s fault.


End file.
